


Closed Circuit

by Twelve (Dodici)



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Kissing, M/M, literally nothing else happens, no context we die like idiots, post-canon whale island vagueness, writober2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:20:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27333310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dodici/pseuds/Twelve
Summary: Gon needs to discharge some electricity.
Relationships: Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 4
Kudos: 70





	Closed Circuit

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to write exactly 1k words but i got some conflicting wordcounts because math hates me even when i'm not trying to solve quadratic inequalities, rip.

Apparently, the answer is square bracket, symbol, x, confusing capital R, square bracket again.

Killua’s finger taps hard on the paper.

“It came out as x is greater than three, which is perfectly nice if you ask me. What does this shit even mean, what’s this giant reversed E?”

“I can’t really remember,” Gon says, and he tries to at least leaf through the book to make himself useful. “Something like ‘x doesn’t exist’?”

Killua’s eyes are narrowed in slits as he draws his face closer to the notebook.

“Jeez, I must have made another mistake… I hate this stuff!”

Gon hates it too—but not as much as he hates himself. His butt hurts for being chair-bounded for so long and there’s a growing restlessness inside his limbs, it’s zeroing all his thought processes on how much he’d like to be doing literally anything else. 

The sky is rumbling with too-close thunders today, which is also the reason why they’re stuck wrestling with brackets and numbers instead of wandering around with Alluka.

Gon would give anything— _anything_ —to will the weather into being sunnier and warmer today; Killua deserves all the brightness and softness that Gon has to give and he already has so little to offer these days—nothing more than boring homework and that feeling of being something less than he was and…

Killua yawns, his body another long bracket as he stretches his arms up on the backrest. He tilts his head to the side and his neck crackles like his bones are made of gravel. It sounds painful, but Gon is pretty sure that even Leorio’s advice would be to just stop worrying about everything all the time, and that’s the only thing Killua isn’t talented at.

He’s worrying right now, half a smile that screams apology when he turns toward him.

“I'm really not much better than you at this stuff. I think we’ll have to call Knuckle, sorry—”

The lightning comes right then in a blaze of blinding blue. The table lamp gives out in a pitiful flicker and the room goes completely dark while the thunder roars against the window.

“Crap,” Killua says. Gon can feel him rustling around, maybe he's putting the notebook back on the table. “Here. Sorry though, I don’t think it’s good enough for us to read.”

_ Good enough _ —it’s amazing. Killua is always amazing, but his aura is something else entirely, spiky electricity wielded with impossible ease, tamed into a soft glowing coat around his hand, bright enough to shed a frizzy light in the space between their faces.

“Killua,” Gon starts. That restlessness has grown into an itch—he knows what he’d like to do, he’s been imagining it with stark clarity for months, now: he can picture Killua in his mind every time he wants, from his pointy chin to those impossibly long eyelashes; he can hear his voice right beside his ear, disapproving every time he thinks about doing something reckless, or humming a laugh at a stupid joke Aunt Mito wouldn’t get—anybody wouldn’t really get but Killua; and every single time Gon thinks about Kurapika’s chains and what he told him about visualization and how he used to draw chains and smell chains and taste—

Maybe he can’t will the weather to cooperate, and maybe he doesn’t know math, and maybe he’s also an awful friend, but he knows that Killua’s is here, right now, and he knows where his own lips are, because he’s kissing lightning with them. 

“Sorry—I. Stop saying you’re sorry, Killua." Under the layered scents of Alluka and soap and all the places Killua's been without him, Gon's own smell is still there and it's driving him crazy. 

Thing is, he can't will the weather to cooperate and he can't will Killua to understand how much he likes him—and that too is driving him crazy. 

“I am the one who’s sorry, Killua. About math and about—”

It stings, and it’s the most exciting sensation ever—and scary and right and unpredictable when Killua’s fingers grab the front of Gon’s shirt to pull him close once again. Static buzzes like crumpled paper all throughout Gon’s body. They’re kissing again and it’s so much better than the first kiss, because Killua is the one who started it and Gon is the one who’s lucky instead of being an awful friend.

“Then you can’t be sorry too, moron,” Killua breathes, raspy and so, so close—“Stop fucking apologizing for every dumb thing.”

“But I know you hate math,” Gon whispers, to Killua’s wild hair and wilder aura; it's lighting up the whole room in waves of blue.

“Yeah, sure, but I don’t—I like _you_ , so it’s alright.”

Gon’s vision blurs. They’re still so close, Killua’s expression is a mixture of all the different shades of deep, staggering embarrassment Gon has subjected him throughout the years.

Alluka blinks behind the flickering flame of a candle, feet light on the floor.

“Oh, well. I guess you won’t need this—please don’t mind me, I didn’t mean to interrupt!” She’s already gone in a flash of skirt and hair, running down the stairs and yelling for Aunt Mito.

The power comes back in the house with a fizzle from the table lamp and the lightbulb still isn't anywhere as bright as Killua.

“You think she saw us?” he asks. He's frowning, voice crumpled tight. “Gosh, I’ll never hear the end of it. What should we do?”

Killua's nen is still buzzing down Gon's spine, his heart pulsing in white-hot flashes.

“What about this?” he asks, and the third kiss is squeezing light between their lips, it feels like shooting stars.

He may have done something right, because there’s a fourth and fifth until Aunt Mito’s voice yells from below that math problems aren’t going to solve themselves. 

Unfortunately for math, it's the first time ever Gon feels strongly about letting things be and he's pretty sure it's because things is Killua.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was #first kiss from fanwriter.it's [pumpFIC list](https://fanwriters.files.wordpress.com/2020/09/writober_listafanwriter.jpg?w=700&h=).  
> What do you mean it's already November? I can't hear you~


End file.
